


Sleep-In-Late Afternoons

by DoctorSyntax



Category: Castle
Genre: Episode: s04e12 Dial M for Mayor, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 22:37:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorSyntax/pseuds/DoctorSyntax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even phone-sex operators have office flings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep-In-Late Afternoons

Laura waits until they're in bed together to spring it on her. "I need a favor," she begins.

Lazy, contented, Sarah's in the mood for indulgences. Smirks a little. "Yeah, shoot." She's dragging a fingertip along Laura's naked torso, painting idle pictures for the sheer joy of touch. She feels as much as hears Laura drag in a deep breath, and it puts her on low alert, terror level yellow. It's a warning that this is going to be something pretty serious, but it's not enough to prepare her for what comes out of Laura's mouth with a nervous waver.

"I need the name, the real name, of a client. One of my regulars."

It's as sobering as a splash of ice water, and Sarah swears she can actually feel the chill of it. Instinct makes her jerk away, even if it's not very far, just enough to scramble up onto her elbows. At least it gives her a better vantage point for her incredulous look, even if the warm weight of Laura's hand on her ribcage threatens to drag her back down. "Are you kidding me?"

The corners of Laura's mouth turn down; concerned frown emphasizing the lines around her lips. She looks older, impossibly more worried. Like the weight of the world's been on her shoulders for too long—and, frankly, like she's hiding something. But that's not exactly new. "No, of course not. I wouldn't joke about something like that."

Unexpectedly, nausea rolls through Sarah's stomach; she can't help but think that this is what it's all been about, since the first minute Laura turned that irresistible smile on her, it's all been leading to this. God, she's been such a fool, to think it could be real. To think someone like Laura would want her. At work, the customers don't want her; they just want her to connect them to the other girls. That's okay. She doesn't want their job for love or money. But it hurts so much more in reverse. And it must be written all over her face, because concern pinches Laura's face. 

"Sarah, don't—please. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't a matter of life or death." Laura leans over. Every place their skin touches is warm with contact, thrilling to the supple pressure of Laura's bare flesh. Her resistance fractures, then cracks as Laura's hand cradles her jaw, thumb a soft caress on her cheek.

"I can't. It's one-hundred-percent, totally, completely against policy. If anyone ever finds out, I could lose my job. I will lose my job. I can't afford for that to happen and I'm going to guess you can't either." It really is just a guess. For all she knows Laura's a bored heiress, or a housewife looking for a thrill with or without the permission of her husband. It's been months and for all she knows Laura has a family waiting for her at home, two-point-five children and a dog in a yard with a white picket fence. She doesn't think so, but the point is she just doesn't know.

"Listen, on one of my calls… I overheard something I shouldn't have. It's just one client, and I swear if I get caught I won't tell anyone you helped me." She curls a strand of Sarah's hair around her fingertip, twines round and round. It's a sign. _I've got you wrapped_.

And she does, is the worst part. She's given so little of herself and taken all of Sarah in return; so much so that Sarah finally understands what it's like to love a stranger. She doesn't know what Laura wants the client's name for, but she knows better than to ask. She knows better than to expect an answer.

Sometimes she wonders what Laura's capable of. Wonders, and worries. It's not that she disbelieves Laura when she says it's a matter of life or death, she just doesn't know whose life they're talking about here. 

Without the permission of her brain her lips ask, "Will you at least tell me what it was you heard?" even though she already knows the answer.

Laura's mouth twists. "No. You'll be so much safer if I don't."

"If it's really that dangerous, just leave it be," she finds herself pleading. She wants to understand, but even more she wants Laura safe. It's selfish, sure, and might not even make sense, but that doesn't make it any less true.

"I can't. Baby, please," Laura murmurs. She nips at Sarah's ear before dropping her head to nuzzle at her neck. Her hair brushes up against Sarah's face. Her shampoo is flowery, cheap. Enough split ends to warrant a hair cut three months ago, and they tickle. But her breath is warm, coursing against Sarah's skin as the entry point for tiny molecules of lust to spread through her with a tingle. She can feel the curve of Laura's lips against her skin.

It undoes her. The force of disappointment and resignation closes her eyes and she stays still, breathing a deep, steadying breath as the sense of Laura surrounds her. God, she's really going to do it. How is it that love can bring out the worst in her when nothing else can? "Yeah, okay. But just this once."


End file.
